And it Began
by Eratosthenese
Summary: First year: operation Marauders put on a play. "Just wait until second year," said Sirius with a mischievous grin. Remus in a dress... it can't get worse...
1. the letter

A scream came from the kitchen, causing the boy to waken with an unpleasant lurch and tumble off of his bed.

"Jonathon!" came the cry. "Jonathon! Come home! He got his letter! He's going to Hogwarts!"

The boy groggily got up from his tangle of sheets that had fallen off of his bed along with him and made his way down the stairs to the kitchen where his mother was screaming with excitement, brandishing a yellow letter in the air, while dancing around on the kitchen table in front of a large two-way mirror through which she had just been communicating with her husband, Jonathon.

Sharri Potter was an easily excited woman. She had hazel eyes and a long, ski-jump nose. Her well-defined lips were almost always smiling, and nothing was more important to her than her only son and her husband.

This day was the best day of her life. Her son, James, had finally received his letter of admission to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the best wizarding school in Britain, possibly even the world. She and her husband had both attended the school, met and fallen in love there. Now was her son's turn.

"James!" she screamed, jumping off of the table and scrambling over to him. "James! Your letter!" she squealed.

"Letter?" he asked, stifling a yawn.

"Yes, James! Your Hogwarts letter! You're going to Hogwarts!"

James managed to take the crumpled letter from her before she returned to the kitchen table for another victory dance.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL

of WITCHCRAFT _and_ WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,

Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. Of Wizards)

Dear Mr Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall,

_Deputy Headmistress_

James had to read the letter several times over before understanding what it was that it was saying.

He was going to Hogwarts.

A small smile crept up onto his face and he looked up to see his mother still happily dancing.

In the other room, the doorknob turned and Jonathon Potter walked in, carrying a large briefcase with parchments of all colours sticking out at strange angles. His eyes were rimmed with dark lines beneath his glasses and his black hair more mussed up than normal.

"Dad!" yelled James, running to meet Mr Potter in the hall. "Dad! I got my letter!"

His father managed to smile tiredly and asked in a hoarse voice, "Where's your mother?"

"Dancing on the kitchen table."

Mr Potter sighed. "Not again," he said. "She did that after she found out she was pregnant with you and it took us at least a week to clean the marks from the table."

James followed his father into the kitchen and as soon as Mrs Potter saw her husband walk into the room, she leapt off of the table and embraced him.

"He's going," she whispered.

Mr Potter dropped his briefcase on the floor behind her as he wrapped his arms around her and said, "I know, Sharri."

* * *

OK, so it's a short chapter. It's really just a beginning of the Marauder Tale. If I don't get a lot of reviews, then I won't continue with it, and I'll probably just remove it. I'll try to write a few more chapters soon enough so that the story will get started, cuz I know that this is a slow start. But that's how the first Harry Potter started - somewhat - but with less dancing on the kitchen table and more... well, _Harry. _Heh heh...

If you like, review.

If you don't like, review.

If you didn't read, I don't care as long as you review. LOL. JK, i want you to read it and I want you to review cuz it just makes me so happy.


	2. a black

James was at King's Cross station, platform 9 and ¾ with his mum and dad and a large trunk filled with all the materials he had purchased at Diagon Alley over the end of the summer. A large great-horned owl, which he had named Godric after the founder of the house he wanted to be sorted into, sat in his cage on top of his trunk.

"Godric Gryffindor," said his father, sitting James down for a small lecture after he had gotten his letter. "Was a brilliant man. Had the best idea of them all, Gryffindor did. You know, your mother and I were both sorted into that house."

"I know, dad," said James. His father had often mentioned many childhood memories of him and Mrs Potter in Hogwarts, never failing to remember to say that he had been in Gryffindor.

"Bravery, pride, the man had the right ideas. And not too stupid, either, Gryffindor was. A smart man. Had the idea of the Sorting Hat. Only hope that you can get into that house. Of course, your mother and I will be proud no matter what house you're in. Slytherin would be a little hard to swallow, but all the same, James, all the same. Just keep your fingers crossed for Gryffindor."

And James had. Gryffindor was the only house in which he desired to be sorted into, and to prove his loyalty to that house to his father, he had named his owl Godric.

His mother had James enveloped in a large hug, nearly squeezing the air from his lungs. "We're so proud of you, James. Remember that." She let go of her son and held him out at arms length, starring him in the eyes behind his black glasses. "You'll make us happy no matter what."

James smiled before being spun into a rib-breaking hug from his father. "I love you, James." He ruffled his hair slightly, giving James the appearance of having just stepped off of a broomstick.

Pushing his trunk along in his trolley, Godric sitting happily on top of it, James made his way to the scarlet steam engine, walking along the sides until he found an empty compartment. He climbed up onto the train and set Godric's cage down on the floor beside him. Turning back to his trunk, he saw another boy with black hair like James's, but much more tame and falling over his dark eyes in a cool fashion. The boy had an eyebrow raised.

"You're gonna need help to get that on," said the boy.

James smiled.

"Thanks," he said.

Together, the two managed to pull the heavy trunk on board and the boy turned and wheeled his own trunk to the door.

"Favour for a favour?" he asked, gesturing to his trunk.

"Course," said James. "Better hurry, though. It's five till eleven."

"Got it," said the boy and they heaved his trunk on board as well. "I'm Sirius, by the way. Sirius Black."

"James Potter," said James, holding out his hand for Sirius to shake it. Smiling, Sirius took it and pulled himself on board, pulling James off of the train.

James turned around to fight Sirius only to see that he was bent over laughing.

"You should have seen your face!" he wheezed. James climbed on board and ruffled his hair as his father had done. The two sat down opposite each other and closed the compartment door, shoving the two trunks under the seats and Godric's cage on the racks above their heads.

A loud whistle was heard and the students who had yet to climb on board gave their parents a last kiss and hurried into open compartments. James's parents waved outside the window. Mrs Potter was crying into Mr Potter's robes and he was just smiling at James, who waved frantically back at them.

And with that, the train left the station, heading towards the school.

James couldn't help but smile at the thought.

* * *

And so, Sirius Black is introduced. Hope this offers a bit more of a promising future for this fic. Review, why don't ya?


	3. recordbreaking detention

"So, where was your family?"

"They were there, but they'd rather say bye to _Regulus_." Sirius said the name with distaste, making a face.

"Who?"

"My brother. He thinks the same as them, so, naturally, they like him more."

James was very confused at what Sirius was saying, but before he could ask what he meant, their compartment door slid open and a very tired-looking face pocked it's head in.

"Oh, sorry," he said. "I thought it was empty."

"No! We don't mind," said Sirius, scooting over.

The boy shyly walked in and took a seat next to Sirius.

"I'm Sirius," he said, offering his hand to the new boy.

"Remus," he said, shaking it.

"James."

"Hello."

"Hiya."

There was a short pause when James broke the silence.

"So, what house do you guys want to be in?"

"Huh?" said Remus.

"You know, what house?" supplied Sirius. "I want to be a Gryffindor. My whole family's been in Slytherin, but I can't imagine being sorted into _that_ house of gits."

"I want to be in Gryffindor, too. But it's different for me," said James. "My entire family has been in Gryffindor. Can't imagine being in any other house, though I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too dreadful."

All this time, Remus was starring at the two with a vacant expression on his face.

"You Muggle-born?" said James, gaining more confidence with the presence of Sirius.

Remus nodded.

"Well, don't worry. Nothing to be scared of. All they do is make you wear—"

Sirius's hand shout out and covered James's mouth and finished his sentence for him. "They make you wear a red dress and do a couple of dances, then they sort you on your skill. Gryffindor is for the better dancers."

Remus swallowed a hard lump in his throat and looked down at his hands. James looked inquisitively over at Sirius from over his hand and, when Sirius winked, a smile was creeping its way onto James's face underneath his new friend's hand.

* * *

Having already changed into their robes, James and Sirius were explaining the rules of Quidditch to Remus when a commotion was heard outside. The three slammed the door open and rushed into the corridor to see what was the matter, instinctively snatching their wands from their robes. 

Three taller goons were towering over another first year who was squealing like a mouse. If it wasn't for the fact that he was dressed in wizarding robes, he could have actually been mistaken for a rat.

"What do you think you're doing?" said James, stepping forward, causing the three older boys to stop and look up.

"A first year?" said the taller of the three. He had long white hair that was tied back in a ponytail and was carrying a black, pointed wand, resembling a sword, now aimed at the boy on the floor. "A first year who thinks he can stop me?" He turned to the other two boys behind him and began laughing madly. The white-haired menace took a step over the cowering first year and stood in front of James, breathing in his face as he spoke. "You can't stop me."

James licked his lips. "Says who?" he replied, defiantly.

"Says _me_, you douche bag."

Sirius and Remus both stood up behind James and glared at the boy, who began laughing hysterically.

"Three first years who think that they can take on a seventh year!" he laughed in a silky, dangerous voice.

James's eyes widened at the fact that he was a seventh year.

"I know you," said Sirius from behind James. "You're that man Malfoy's son."

"Lucius Malfoy at your service," he said, bowing low to the ground in a mocking fashion. His two cronies behind him chuckled stupidly.

"Let him go," said James, gesturing towards the first year, still on the floor.

"Or you'll what?" said Malfoy.

James raised his wand.

Malfoy raised his hands and mockingly cowered, laughing. "Ooh!" he said. "Now, I'm really, _really_ scared."

Knowing full well that James knew no magic, he lowered his wand, slipping it back into his robe pocket. Making to turn around and walk back in the compartment, the seventh years howled with laughter when James jumped up at Malfoy, putting his hands around his throat and punching every piece of Malfoy that he could reach. Sirius and Remus both jumped as well onto the other goons, following James's lead.

* * *

"The first day of term hasn't even _begun_ and you three boys find yourself in detention. I don't think that _ever_, in the _history _of _Hogwarts_ has anyone managed a detention so quickly." Professor McGonagall had only just met the three boys and already she could tell that the next seven years – if they lasted that long without being expelled – would be an adventure. Something to keep her on her toes.

"So," said one of the two with black hair. "We're the first to ever get detention this quickly."

"Did you not hear me the first time? Mr Potter, I presume."

He nodded, his lips curving up in the form of a smile.

"And you say, no one has _ever_ done it that quickly?" This time, it was the second black-haired boy to speak.

"I can only imagine that you would be Mr Black?"

Sirius nodded.

"Well," she said. "You will receive owls informing you of your detentions. Hurry along before I start the sorting without you," she said, bustling out through the room.

James and Sirius smirked at each other and followed McGonagall out of the room, Remus on their tails looking like he had just found out his grandfather had died.

"I think we may be able to start a tradition, what say you, Mr Black?" James held out his hand again, more warily than the first time when they had met on the Hogwarts Express, and Sirius shook it, grinning madly. Looking over his shoulder, James grabbed Remus's arm and pulled him forward, slapping him on the back. "Well done, mate," he said proudly.

* * *

Well there ya go. Give it a review, be a good matey.


	4. the sorting

James, Sirius and Remus followed McGonagall down to a staircase where all the other first years were standing, waiting, fumbling wildly with their robes, looking nervous. McGonagall stood in front of them and eyed the three boys as they took their place among the others.

Remus was subtly trembling, obviously very frightened about what awaited him on the other side of the gargantuan double doors across from them. James and Sirius, however, had large grins plastered on their faces.

This would be a fun year.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall, her lips pursed into a thin white line on her face. She was not helping to calm the nerves of the first years before her. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded that house cup, a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting. I shall return when we are ready for you. Please wait quietly."

McGonagall left the hall, leaving behind her a growing buzz of fright as the students all asked what she meant by "smartening up." James and Sirius both turned to each other to begin a conversation, completely relaxed about the Sorting that lay ahead of them, or at least, not choosing to show their nerves, when the rat-boy whom they had rescued on the train ride over made his way over to where James, Sirius and Remus were standing near the top of the stairs.

"I just—" he said nervously. "Um, hi."

"Hello," said James.

"Hiya," said Sirius.

Remus nodded, still looking very pale.

"I wanted to thank you for, um—doing what you did back there on the train." He was looking at his feet. "I, uh—I wouldn't have been able to, um—"

"Don't think on it, mate," said Sirius, slapping the boy on the back. "I'm Sirius, by the way. Good to meet you."

The boy shook his hand and said, "Peter."

"James."

"Remus."

They all shook hands with Peter by the time McGonagall walked back in the room, her emerald-green robes billowing out behind her as she took long strides towards them.

"We're ready for you, now," she said dramatically, the hint of a smile playing on her lips. "Form a line and follow me."

James got in line behind Sirius. Peter was between him and Remus who was leading the four from behind a slimy looking, hook-nosed boy. They followed McGonagall through the double doors and into the Great Hall. James had trouble suppressing his amazement at the splendid room. It had four long table with students seated in front of empty golden platters. Millions of candles were floating in the air above the tables, casting a golden glow in the room. Looking up, James noticed that the Great Hall had no ceiling and instead opened up into the heavens. Stars were sprinkled against the velvety blackness of the night sky.

"What happens when it rains?" whispered Peter from in front of him.

"It's not real," said Sirius, also looking up. "It's just enchanted to look like the sky. Andromeda told me about it."

James didn't ask who "Andromeda" was and instead looked before him, beyond the long line of first years waiting to be sorted. McGonagall had set down a four-legged stool and set on top of it a very dirty hat.

"I'm not letting that touch my hair," James heard Sirius mumble. "They couldn't even wash it once a year for us?"

A silence enveloped the Hall as everyone's eyes were starring at the hat when it twitched. A large rip at the bottom opened and the hat did something that James was least expecting.

It began to sing.

_Though you're sad the summer's gone,_

_Don't shed a single tear;_

_Don't cry, don't bray, don't yawn,_

_Dear Hogwarts will endear._

_A thousand or more years ago_

_A group of Founders four,_

_Built a castle on this mount_

_To create a wizard core._

_The witches and the wizards_

_Came pouring in by hundreds;_

_Some of them were pure-blood,_

_And some of them were druids._

_The Founders took in students_

_Who earned their faith and trust._

_Gryffindor and Slytherin,_

_Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff._

_Great Godric took the daring,_

_The chivalrous, the bold._

_If you were one brave at heart_

_Then Gryffindor extolled._

_Happy Helga was the second,_

_She accepted all who came._

_Loyalty and trust will prove_

_That Hufflepuff's your game._

_Rogue Rowena; a witch to meet,_

_She knew what she was doing._

_A witty mind will find their kind,_

_In the Ravenclaws of learning._

_Sly Salazar chose the sneaky,_

_He never hesitated_

_Between a man filled with fluff,_

_And a man who's educated._

_So slap me on that head of yours._

_This song will end erelong._

_You'll find that I can read your mind_

_And tell you where you belong._

The Hall burst into applause and a few Gryffindors hooted as Remus let out a long whistle of air in front of Peter. He seemed relieved that all they had to do was try on a hat for a few seconds.

The hat bowed to each of the four long tables and became very still as McGonagall stepped forward holding a long scroll of parchment. As the Great Hall fell quiet, she spoke to the first years.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted." She peered down her nose at the first name, frowned, and said, "Adams, Douglas!"

A tall, lanky boy with sandy hair and freckles stepped up and sat on the stool. Professor McGonagall set the hat on top of his head. It was so big, it fell right down over his face so no one could see his eyes. The hat seemed to be thinking for a moment before—

"HUFFLEPUFF!" it shouted.

The Hufflepuff table applauded as Douglas Adams ran to sit next to a short Hufflepuff girl who whispered to him loud enough for James to hear over the clapping, "You know, there's a Muggle writer whose name is Douglas Adams."

Professor McGonagall called "Black, Sirius" and he went up, walking confidently to the stool before sitting on it and smirking at the Slytherin table before his face was hidden by the dirty wizarding cap. The hat was on his head for a while and just when James was beginning to wonder what was taking so long, the hat opened its brim and screamed, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Cheers exploded from the Gryffindor table on the far right of the Hall and Sirius gave James the thumbs up as he took a seat next to a cute blonde girl who seemed to have just started her second year. Murmurs were issuing from the Slytherin table but were quickly extinguished by the cheers that "Brown, Elton" earned after having just been sorted into Slytherin, earning himself the honour of being the first new Slytherin of 1971.

James let his mind wander and his eyes soar across the Great Hall when McGonagall called up "Evans, Lily."

He watched her make her way to the stool, her chin held proudly in the air and her red hair swaying slowly, shimmering gold in the candlelight.

"That's a Gryffindor if I ever saw one," he muttered to himself, and sure enough, only a few seconds after the hat had been set on top of her head, the hat shouted out, "GRYFFINDOR!"

James was starting to get anxious. He saw her sit across from Sirius, her red hair cascading down her back. He tore his gaze away and instead focused on the names that McGonagall was reading, but they just entered one ear and left the other. His brain was occupied with the pretty red head sitting at Gryffindor table next to an empty spot that maybe he could snatch.

The hat had just sorted "Lovegood, Lancelot" into Ravenclaw when "Lupin, Remus," was called up, and he walked unsteadily forward, his face a faint shade of green. He sat down on the stool and James could have sworn that McGonagall gave him a pitying look before hiding his face underneath the hat. Remus was on the stool for such a long time that people were actually starting to murmur in suspicion. No one had taken this long with the hat. He was clutching the stool so hard, his knuckles had become white.

After what seemed half an hour, Remus was sorted into Gryffindor and he joined Sirius at the table between a few other new Gryffindors.

Much too soon, McGonagall called "Pettigrew, Peter," and Peter went stumbling up and McGonagall set the hat on his head. It fell right to his shoulders. James held his breath. He would be next, he knew it. His face started to turn red as Peter took a significant amount of time under the hat as well.

"GRYFFINDOR!" yelled the hat and James closed his eyes.

Here it came.

"Potter, James!"

Bingo.

He took a deep breath and walked forward, forcing a smug smile on his face and strutting confidently up to the hat. It seemed to approach to him in slow motion, as if the moment it touched his head, he would blow up, like at the climax of a Muggle movie. He sat down on the stool and took another shaky breath.

The Sorting Hat had barely touched James's head when it screamed out "GRYFFINDOR!"

James blinked a few times before casually taking a victory walk to the table. The cheers of his fellow classmates was drowned out by his own solitary rejoicing.

* * *

So that's it. I was really proud of myself about the song.... took me a while. lol. anyway, did you guys notice the foreshadowing of deaths in the order that the marauders were in l ine for the sorting (moony wormtail padfoot then prong....) nvm..... i thought it was clever

cloever....

it should be spelled like that to spite people

anyway

review.


	5. ordo est prognatus in septem annus

James did not get to sit next to the pretty red-head, but managed a seat across from Remus and Sirius, next to Peter. Looking down at the table, set for a king, he clutched his stomach as a roaring noise issued from it. He had not realized how hungry he was in all the excitement.

Professor Albus Dumbledore stood up from his throne behind the staff table when McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat away having just have finished the Sorting Ceremony. The Great Hall fell silent as he cast a warm smile around at his students.

"Welcome!" he said in his soft, clear voice. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts!" A silence so intense filled the hall, James thought his eardrums would burst. "Before the feast begins, I have a few words. Ordo est prognatus in septem annus! Thank you!"

James didn't know whether or not to laugh. A few classmates who obviously knew Latin or whatever language in which he had spoken were mumbling as they mindlessly banged their hands together, but despite the hiss of questions, Dumbledore, not only seemed oblivious, but unaffected.

The golden platters before them which had been empty moments before had suddenly filled with food. James's mouth was open, smiling. He wanted to eat absolutely everything on the table, from the roast chicken to the peppermint humbugs (his mum had never let him try them before). His face was so stuffed with food he didn't even realize when a pearly white figure made its way to the table and took a seat next to him until James's hand passed through the ghost as he repositioned himself on the bench.

"Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington. Pleasure to meet you," said the ghost, smiling down at James. "Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower. I'd shake hands, but … well—" He looked down gloomily at his transparent hands.

"Wait," said James, a chicken leg halfway to his mouth. "My dad told me about you— you're Nearly Headless Nick!" he exclaimed.

Peter dropped the lamb chops he had been devouring, trying to eat the same way as Sirius, who was completely unaware that anything was happening, his focus on how much food he could shovel into his mouth and how quickly he could swallow it. "N- n-" He swallowed. "_Nearly_ Headless?"

"How can you be _Nearly _Headless?" asked Remus, tearing at a piece of pork.

"Every blood year," he mumbled to himself. He took a great chunk of his hair in a fist and pulled his head down to rest on his shoulder, revealing a somewhat severed neck. He had obviously not been beheaded properly.

"What happened!" said Remus, his appetite gone and his unfinished dinner resting in his plate. He had paled significantly at the site of the inside of Nick's meaty neck.

"Must stop sitting with the first years," he said to himself.

"Sorry?" said Peter, leaning in.

"Nothing. It's, well, it's a long story."

"We got time," said James, tacking another bite of potatoes.

"I was afraid of that. Well!" He cleared his throat, making it quite clear to the new Gryffindors who were listening that he was about to recite a story which he had rehearsed and performed many times before them. He took a deep breath and looked into space dramatically, his hand on his heart, then deflated and said, "Now, this was originally a song, so it's in poem form, so you'll excuse me." James nodded and Nearly Headless Nick took another deep breath, exhaled and said, "If you don't like it, just be sure to tell me and I can always change it, you know."

"Just get on with it!" yelled James impatiently.

"Right, right. OK." And Nearly Headless Nick's tragic story of his decapitation began.

"It was a mistake any wizard could make

Who was tired and caught on the hop

One piffling error, and then, to my terror,

I found myself facing the chop.

Alas for the eve when I met Lady Grieve

A-strolling the park in the dusk!

She was of the belief I could straighten her teeth

Next moment she'd sprouted a tusk.

I cried through the night that I'd soon put her right

But the process of justice was lax;

They'd brought out the block, though they mislaid the rock

Where they usually sharpened the axe.

Next morning at dawn, with a face most forlorn,

The priest said to try not to cry,

"You can come just like that, no, you won't need a hat,"

And I knew that my end must be nigh.

The man in the mask who would have the sad task

Of cleaving my head from my neck,

Said "Nick, if you please, will you get to your knees,"

And I turned to a gibbering wreck.

"This may sting a bit" said the cack-handed twit

As he swung the axe up in the air,

But oh the blunt blade! No difference it made,

My head was still definitely there.

The axeman he hacked and he whacked and he thwacked,

"Won't be too long", he assured me,

But quick it was not, and the bone-headed clot

Took forty-five goes 'til he floored me.

And so I was dead, but my faithful old head

It never saw fit to desert me,

It still lingers on, that's the end of my song,

And now, please applaud, or you'll hurt me."

There was a slight stunned silence after Nearly Headless Nick finished his poem, and then a few feeble claps.

Sirius looked up from his plate, gravy dribbling down his chin and staining his fingers. Seeing several clapping students and a sheepishly smiling ghost, he frowned and said, "What?"

* * *

OK, so it's short and most of it was written by JK (the song - ) but it's a fast update and the chapter had to be put in there. i mean, you can't very well skip the opening feast, can you?

that's what I thought.

So, review, and the next chapter will be more interesting. Btw, you should try to find a latin english dictionary and translate the latin phrase dumbledore says. it's like  
_the_ most obvious foreshadowing ever, so take a look. tell me in your review if you cant find it or if you're too lazy.


	6. lost

After the dinner had been magically cleared, leaving the gold plates as clean as they had been before, the Great Hall was packed with desserts beyond imagination. Even though James had filled himself to the brim with dinner foods, he still managed to take seconds of everything, though he proved no match for Sirius. When everyone had eaten as much as they could, the desserts, too, disappeared and Professor Dumbledore stood up again, resettling the Great Hall into a more familiar silence.

"I realize that you are all anxious to get to bed and digest all the wonderful foods, but I'm afraid I must borrow you for a few more moments before releasing you. Some simple start-of-term notices.

"First years should be warned that the forest on the grounds of the castle is forbidden to all students, and a few of our elder students must be reminded of that as well."

Dumbledore paused, his eyes twinkling.

"I have also been asked by Mr Filch to remind you that no magic is to be used in the corridors between classes and the list of all forbidden items has been posted on his office door and shall be further posted in all common rooms.

"Quidditch trials will be held during the second week of term. Anyone interested in trying out should contact Madame Hooch.

"As well, I regret to inform you that our previous Grounds Keeper, Ogg, has retired. On a higher note, I would like to introduce our new Keeper of Keys and Grounds of Hogwarts, Mr Rubeus Hagrid!"

A giant of a man who James recognized had led the boats to Hogwarts for the first years – which he had not ridden, being sent directly to McGonagall's office for detention with Sirius and Remus – stood up, knocking over a few goblets on the table. He had a large friendly face hidden behind a bushy beard and a wild tangle of hair atop his head, but his beetle-black eyes shone with an innocence which strangely reminded James of his mother. After the feeble applause died down, Rubeus Hagrid took his seat once more and looked at his hands, embarrassed.

"And now, finally, one last thing before we go to bed. The school song! Everyone pick their favourite tune!"

Dumbledore gave a quick flick to his wand and golden ribbons came slithering out of the tip, forming themselves into words.

"Off we go!" said Dumbledore, happily, and the school began to sing.

"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts…"

The song was beyond anything James had ever heard, but something about the uncoordinated tune of the off key singers had a strange comfort to it, no matter how loud and hideous the song sounded.

"Ah, music. A magic beyond what anyone can be taught," sighed Dumbledore after the last slow singers of the song ended with whatever tune they decided to attach to it.

Stuffed beyond comfort, the students made their way to their common rooms led by the prefects. The Gryffindor common room, unfortunately, was a tower, so they had to climb a countless amount of staircases before reaching the entrance. James paid no attention whatsoever to where they were going until he noticed they were all waiting in front of a large portrait of a fat lady in a pink dress.

"Blubber," said the prefect, and the portrait swung open revealing a hole in the wall through which he climbed, all the Gryffindors following his lead.

The Gryffindor common room was a large circular room with a roaring fire across from the entrance. Big red armchairs were scattered in groups around the common room, some of them around tables on which to do homework. The prefect directed the girls up one staircase to their dormitories and the boys up another.

Not talking for fear of losing their dinners, James, Sirius, Remus, Peter and another Gryffindor first year boy, Frank Longbottom, made their way to their dormitory room at last. They didn't even bother to change into their pajamas or unpack their trunks which they found at the foot of their beds, but instead collapsed into their scarlet four-poster beds and fell instantly asleep.

* * *

"Wake up, Sirius!" screamed James as he bounded on all five beds around the dormitory. "Wake up, Remus! Wake up, Peter! Wake up, Frank!" Several loud and annoyed groans were issued from the lumps covered in the red blankets of the beds as they rolled over, pressing their pillows to their ears. James continued with his chanting until he landed on Remus's foot and fell on top of him with a muffled, "_Oof!_" 

Sirius, who had just peeked his head from under his covers began to laugh hysterically.

James and Remus untangled themselves from the covers and James was pushed off of the bed. Remus pocked his head out from the sheets, sitting up in bed. His eyes were lined with dark shadows, a startling contrast with the rest of his face, ghost white, making him resemble a more modern version of Nearly Headless Nick. His hair was arranged in a flock-of-seagulls style, the tip of the highest strand waving slightly in the cool breeze blowing in from the open window near James's bed.

"What the heck, James?" he croaked, blinking, not even bothering to look at James on the floor.

"It's the first day of school!" said James excitedly, jumping up and waving his head around in front of Remus, who didn't move.

Sirius, who had fallen back asleep already, was back under the covers and snoring loudly. Peter got up drearily in his blue flannel pajamas patterned with white clouds and slid into his slippers which lay next to his bed in a manner that reminded James of his father.

Frank had ignored the four of them, seemingly intimidated and was already dressed and ready to get lost on his way to breakfast when James, Remus and Peter all rushed to Sirius's bed to begin the near impossible task of separating him from his bed.

* * *

At breakfast – once they had found the Great Hall in the maze of Hogwarts (a ghost had told them "If you find any stairs, go down," which had helped significantly) – Professor McGonagall had handed out timetables to all the Gryffindors. 

Remus seemed to be ecstatic about the classes.

All Gryffindor first years had the same classes, so James wouldn't have to worry about being separated from Sirius, Remus and Peter. First, they had Transfiguration with the Ravenclaws, then a double Charms with Slytherins. After lunch, it would be Potions with the Slytherins and double Herbology with Hufflepuffs.

James was looking particularly forwards to his Transfiguration class. He had read a few of his mother's books and found Transfiguration the most fascinating of subjects. Dumbledore was rumoured to have been the Transfiguration teacher before he became Headmaster.

In one of this mother's books, James had read about Circe, a witch from the time period of Greek Mythology, who was famously known for turning sailors into pigs. When James was a child, he would play with his ABC Wand and pretend to change his stuffed animals into sailors, acting as the savior of the men of the sea.

His father had always encouraged his fetish with Transfiguration. After all, it was supposed to be important for Aurors to know how to transfigure and untransfigure properly and that was the career that Mr Potter had in mind for his son. Luckily enough, Mr Ollivander had given James a wand that was supposed to be good for Transfiguration. Or, as Mr Ollivander would have said, "The want that chose James."

After the four had eaten their share, they made their way down to Professor McGonagall's classroom for their very first lesson. They had been smart enough to leave five minutes early in case they got lost.

They did.

But it took them more than five minutes to find Transfiguration.

* * *

Sorry for the delay, and the fact that it's so short. Sucks for writer's block. But this should be the last chapter I write under the influence. 

For those of you too lazy to look up the Latin in the previous chapter, it means:

"The Order is born in seven years."

That's as closely translated as it can get.... at least to my knowledge.

Anyway, you know the drill. Here are responses to reviewers. The good people who review. lol

**lilycrazy9224** sorry bout the poems and songs. i took out the school song that was originally in this chapter. but it's just to try to get out of WB, which sucks,and don't worry, cuz no further songs have been planned for the remainder of the story, at least not for a while. hope you enjoy the future chappies more.

**Padfoot** cough _narcissist_ cough lol, jk. no, but im glad i could make you dance on the table. yay for prongs!

**ditzychick1228** yay! one person who 1.) liked the songs and 2) understood the latin. judos to you!!! you made me smile, so thank you for that. hope i dont let you too down with the continuation of this story. lol

**Inuyashastwin** i've done the best i can. hope you like this chapter despite it's suckiness. lol. ill try to update the good chapter asap.

**Ghost of Allknowing** sorry for another short chapter. :P I'll try to make the next ones longer. and thanx for keeping me off my arse, though literally on it, cuz thats where i am when im writing. lol

**Stella Blu** theres the translation!


	7. the parchment

"Doesn't that statue look a little familiar?"

"That's Cliodna."

"Who?"

"Famous daughter of some druid. I have her card."

"Chocolate Frogs?"

"Yup."

"Well, I swear we've been here before."

"Have we seen that painting?"

"Of course! That's Paracelsus."

"Who?"

"He's on a card, Peter."

"Well, I've seen him at least twice."

"We're just going around in circles."

James looked around desperately. Everything looked so familiar, and yet he had no idea where he was. Remus was looking outside the windows along the corridor, trying to see where they were and Sirius was heckling the paintings. Peter was simply trailing along behind James, looking afraid.

"Maybe if we asked one of these guys, they could tell us where to go," said Sirius, poking Paracelsus with his quill.

"I don't think they'll want to," said Remus without looking over his shoulder.

"Why not?"

"Because you're annoying them."

"So?"

"Nevermind," said James, stepping forward, Peter stumbling along behind him. "Excuse me? Excuse me!" Paracelsus finally noticed James as he tried to catch his attention, turning away from Sirius who continued to prod him with his quill. "Sorry, but I was wondering which direction it was to the Transfiguration classroom?"

"First years?"

James nodded.

"Ah well, I remember getting lost _my_ first day of Hogwarts as well."

James continued starring blankly at the painting and blinked a few times.

"Not the time for that. Right." Paracelsus started rushing through paintings and the four boys followed him at a sprint. Paracelsus led the boys around corners, through doors hidden behind tapestries, and down some staircases until he pointed down a long stretch with no paintings and said that that was where they were going.

The four boys thanked him before rushing off in the direction in which he had pointed and as they were running, James could have sworn he heard the painting say, "Stupid boy, another Black. Pestering me like I was just some paint on the wall," but he paid no heed to it and instead followed Sirius, Remus and Peter through the door.

It didn't take two glances to tell that this was not Professor McGonagall's classroom. In fact, it didn't look like a classroom at all.

"Oh no," muttered Remus. "First day of term."

James and Sirius looked on, their mouths hanging open, and Peter was breathing so hard that he could have been hyperventilating.

The room was vast and dark, with walls the colour of rotting stone. Shelves were folding under the weight of all the books and scrolls of parchment that had accumulated on top of them all. Several ancient looking maps were hanging on the wall, and a giant model of Saturn and its moons was suspended in the air in the middle of the room. A small dark window above the door was letting a small amount of sunlight into the room which illuminated all the dust dancing in the air.

They all took a shy step forward and the heavy, wooden door slammed shut behind them. They all turned around and ran into the door, banging on it with their fists and pulling at the rusty doorknob, screaming, but the door didn't budge. James was the first to give up, knowing it was a hopeless feat, leaving the other three yelling at the door, trying to get out.

At a closer look, the room was actually amazing, filled with tiny details that captured James's attention. Interesting knick-knacks were laid out neatly on the tops of the shelves, some of them whirring and spinning silently, others sitting as stilly as if they were scared any movement would arouse some dangerous spirit.

James roamed around the room, not touching anything. He was so intensely focused on the contents of the room, he didn't notice when Sirius, Remus and Peter stopped banging on the door and had begun to follow him around the room, also inspecting the silver toys that littered it. Remus was breathing heavily, acting nervous around the contents. Sirius, however, was careless, picking up random objects, turning them upside down, pulling on odd levers and setting it back haphazardly down on the shelf.

"Sirius, be careful!" hissed Peter.

"What is this stuff?" asked Sirius, ignoring Peter and instead shaking a sterling cup with slabs and crossbars jutting out from it at all angles.

"Dark Detectors," said Remus, still looking warily at the cup in Sirius's hand.

"Hey, guys!" called James from a grim corner of the room. "Come check this out!" They all rushed over to where he was sitting, holding an ancient scroll in his lap, looking as if it was ready to fall apart.

"What is that?" asked Sirius, craning his neck to get a better look at the curvy, fading writing on the paper.

"I think it's a journal."

"Who wrote it?" said Remus. He gently took the parchment from James and inspected the bottom of it. "Is that?" Remus gasped. "This is by Godric Gryffindor!"

"What?" screamed James, grabbing the scroll back from him, and in turn, studied it. A huge smile made its way onto his face as he observed the name scrolled at the bottom of the parchment.

Godric Gryffindor.

"This is amazing!"

"And on a lesser note," said Peter, looking at the giant model of Saturn above him with a fear in his eyes that suggested he was worried about it falling on his head. He took a step out from under it and starred at his friends. "We're still stuck in here."

"True," said James, rolling the parchment and tucking it into his robe pockets. "But that, my friend, is a _frivolous_ point. I'm sure we can find a way out of here."

Sirius raised an amused eyebrow.

"Are you actually taking that with you?" asked Remus in disbelief as he watched James and Sirius casually strut over to the door.

James took out his wand and pointed it at the door, suddenly feeling more comfortable with the familiar mahogany weight in his hand. "_Alohomora!_" he said, and a small gray wind flew from the tip of his wand and the lock clicked and Sirius opened the door, smiling and gesturing to the corridor. James gave a mock bow and stepped out of the room, his hands extended as if waiting for applause. Remus and Peter looked at each other before following him out along with Sirius, who let the door slam shut behind them.

"'_Alohomora_'?" asked Remus with an eyebrow raised.

"Standard Book of Spells, chapter seven," said James, grinning broadly.

"Since when do _you_ practice charms?" said Sirius, laughter in his voice. "Or _read_?"

"Since mum made sure I read my books before coming here. I swear, she just stood in my room and watched me read to make sure I wasn't doing anything else."

"That sounds pretty paranoid," said Peter.

"We're bloody late."

James looked down at his watch. "Oh no! We've already missed the first fifteen minutes of Transfiguration!"

"I swear, I'll kill that Paracelsuck," muttered Sirius dangerously, under his breath.

"Paracel_sus_," corrected Remus.

"Whatever."

It took the four boys another good ten minutes before they found the Transfiguration classroom, as they were detoured when Peter had to desperately go to the bathroom. When they entered the classroom, the students were all busy taking notes as a stiff-looking cat sat next to a blackboard with many detailed and confusing looking scribbles written on it. The only sound when they noisily burst through the room, was the frantic scratching of the quills on the parchment.

"Made it!" breathed Sirius. "Can you imagine the look on the old broad's face if she saw us come in late?" James laughed, but was quickly cut off when the cat jumped at them and transformed before their eyes into Professor McGonagall, complete with her square glasses, dark, emerald robes and stern stare.

"I'm glad you saw fit to come to class," she said, eyeing them from over her spectacles.

"W- we got lost," Remus stuttered under her stare.

"Perhaps it would be best if you were to transfigure yourselves into a map. Then you might make it to class on time."

James silently wondered how many times she had had to tell a student that.

"It's a big castle," he said.

"I understand that, Mr Potter, but I trust you can find your seats before I make it so you cannot sit down."

Peter gulped and sat down in the closest seat so fast that he knocked over the stool. He scrambled up and fixed his chair and sat back down, more carefully this time.

James, Sirius and Remus all took a seat next to him and pulled out some parchment, quill and ink to begin taking notes.

_Brilliant first day,_ thought James. But the notes of Godric Gryffindor resting happily in his robes made him smile, and even the fact that he had missed the first half hour of his favourite class couldn't take that smile away from him.

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

**padfoot**: thanx for catching that. i fixed it in word, but i don't feel like going back and fixing it here, cuz it just takes so much bloody time.

**Ghost of Allknowing**: sorry bout the ending things like that. I guess I just learned to write like that. i kinda did it in this chapter too. heh heh....

**Sparkling Cherries**: I'm glad i made you laugh. I never saw myself as a very funny person, but you and your review definately made my day, so thank you for that. lol. anyway, i agree that it's hard to forget about the terribleness that is peter, but i'm gonna try to make it seem like... he was just scared and confused, cuz its hard to believe in such treachery. you should read my one shot, mice scream, cuz its about when peter goes to the dark side...... anyway..... im glad you liked it, and ill try to keep the upbeatedness to it for a little while before things need to really get sad. lol.

**ditzychick1228**: Well thank you very very very very very much. I really wasn't proud of that chapter, but you brightened up my day. yay!

**Stella Blu**: You're welcome for the translation, it's what I'm here for. Also, sorry bout my chapters being so short. I'm trying, but what with school and all that... oy.... hope i updated soon enough for you.

**PentagonMerlin**: Frank, as in Frank Longbottom, as in Neville's daddy.... nvm. Had fun snowboarding. thanx for the thought. a nd thanx for writing the one shot so fast. yay for moony.

you know the drill so drop off a review.


	8. the madness of a playwright

_"Rowena and I have finally started planning the outline for the school. Salazar has been working on his own individual common room for the Slytherins. He seems very distant, lately. He's stopped telling me things. He didn't even mention it when he and Helga discovered the small colony of merpeople in the Lake. I actually heard it from Rowena who was told by Helga._

_"I think he doesn't like the idea of letting Muggle-borns into the school, but they have just as much a right as any to be accepted. It may have to do with the recent burning of his mother._

_"Helga seems to be here more for moral support, but Rowena keeps assuring me that she's doing something important, so I'll bite my tongue. I somehow can't help thinking, though, that she's up to something … dangerous that she doesn't want me or Salazar butting in on."_

_Godric set down his quill and rubbed his eyes. He was exhausted. He had spent the last year and a half planning the setup of the school he was going to create with Rowena, Helga and Salazar. But the more they worked on it, the more they seemed to grow away from each other. He was so confused. He picked up the quill and again, began to write, hoping that it might help clear his mind._

_"At the beginning of this project, the idea was to unite the wizarding world, but we're just separating each other. Salazar has enclosed himself in his room at the inn we've occupied and has been working tirelessly on parchments that he won't let me see. I'm afraid he's planning on leaving us and our school to start his own._

_"One where Muggle-borns aren't accepted. Helga has tried countless times to get him to understand our purpose, as have I and Rowena, too. But I can still remember the night when his mother was burning, screaming out to us to help her and there was nothing she could do. They had captured her in her sleep, she didn't even have time to cast the Flame Freezing Charm on herself before tying her to the post and setting fire to the hay around her._

_"That night still haunts my dreams._

_"I can only imagine if it was my own mother._

_"Rowena, however, is always there when I wake up from the nightmares. How I love her. I always knew she was a bright witch, but she really is exceptional. Her handiwork with the quill as we plan the school is amazing. We will, of course, have to burn the map when we're done constructing it, for we want it to keep some sort of mystery to it, and such a shame. No one will ever be able to come close to creating a map of this place. I'll eat my boot if someone can map it."_

_Godric laughed at the expression, remembering when his father had actually taken a bite from his leather boot because Godric strung his old bow. He dipped his quill in the ink and continued writing._

_"I'm planning on asking for Rowena's hand in marriage tomorrow night after the full moon. She loves the full moon. Salazar will be taking Helga out to give us the evening in peace and I'll just ask her. Her father and mother both died a while ago, so all I need is her acceptance. I know she'll say yes. I bought her a ring. It's moon diamond. They say it's very rare and it cost me a limb to buy it, but I know she'll love it._

_"She's calling me now to come help her with the planning of the Astronomy Tower, so I must go. I'm chuckling at the thought of it. It is like we are already married. Tomorrow couldn't come faster."_

_----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

James smiled as he read Godric Gryffindor's thoughts. He could almost smell the fresh ink as his hero wrote whatever was going on through his mind. He could see the man as he wrote by candlelight. James pictured him with red hair and gold eyes, just like the colours of his house. He had a certain lion-like quality to him, and several scars as proof of past adventures and bravery. He saw the man with his love, with Rowena Ravenclaw. She had bronze hair and blue eyes. Her own house colours. A sharp, pointed face like that of a hawks.

Perhaps all of the Founders had the qualities and colours of their houses. Of course, Slytherin would be that to have white hair and green eyes with a slimy, snake disposition, and Hufflepuff would have yellow hair and black eyes with the friendly manner of a badger.

James laughed at himself.

He was imagining the Founders. It was understandable. After all, they were the greatest wizards and witches of all time, perhaps even exceeding Dumbledore. He rolled up the parchment and ran upstairs to his dorm, pausing only slightly to look at a certain red-headed Gryffindor, talking animatedly with her friends by the fire.

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"James?" said Remus, looking his friend in the eyes. He looked terrible, more pale than ever. James thought it might have been the stress, but it was only the third day of school and Friday evening. No one is stressed on Friday evening.

"Yes?" replied James pleasantly.

"You can't actually be serious?"

"What?" He took another helping of steak off of the table. He loved dinner time.

Sirius raised a hand, his mouth full of mashed potatoes. "That would be me, mate."

"You _actually_ want to _put on a play_?"

James nodded enthusiastically.

"Of the founding of Hogwarts?"

He nodded again.

Remus set down his fork and rubbed his eyes.

"I," said James, taking a big bite of meat. "Would, naturally play Gryffindor."

"Who says _you_ get to play Gryffindor?" said Sirius.

"I do. Since it was my idea."

"Well, then, who am I?"

"Do you want to play a woman?"

"What!" screamed Sirius, backing up and knocking over a few other first years sitting next to him. "Of course not! I have to create a reputation for myself, don't I?"

"Then you will be Slytherin."

Sirius opened his mouth, as if to rebuttal, but closed it defeatedly. "Yeah, alright."

James turned back to Remus, obviously very pleased with himself. "You will be Ravenclaw."

Remus coughed into his pumpkin juice. Peter slapped him on the back a few times before he said, "I'm _Rowena_ Ravenclaw?"

"Yup." James ignored Remus's stunned silence and turned to Peter who was oblivious to the conversation and clearly enjoying his dinner. "You won't mind being Hufflepuff, will you, Peter? Thanks, mate, I knew you'd pull through."

Peter looked up, a dribble of gravy making its way down his chin. "Huh?" he said.

Remus crossed his arms and turned his head away from James. "There is no way I'm playing a woman in a play in front of the school. Nor are you putting me in a dress."

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"I can't believe I'm playing a woman in a play in front of the school and wearing a dress."

"I think you look rather smashing," said Peter.

James had somehow dug up a few old cloaks from the room they had discovered and was dressed in a red and gold cape with a fake beard drawn on his face. He looked somewhat silly, the beard being a sunflower yellow and crooked, showing clear signs of having been scribbled on with the equivalent of a Muggle magic marker.

Sirius had been elaborately dressed in a green cloak with a silver lining. He had pulled back his dark hair in a pony tail and charmed a beard on his face, being more talented when it came to Charms than James. He was trying to get into character, looking over the script that James had written during History of Magic on Friday, and was doing so splendidly well. His chin was high in the air and he looked at everything with a sullen boredom, muttering his lines and double checking with the script to ensure he had everything right.

Remus and Peter were both dressed in old dresses five times too big for them. Remus was staring blankly at the fire in the dorm where they were rehearsing, his uniform visible under the v-neck of his dress and Peter was adjusting it in random places and observing himself in the mirror.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but does this dress make my butt look big? Now, be honest," said Peter, inspecting himself from all angles.

James was making a few final adjustments to the script and handing the final copies to Sirius, Remus and Peter.

"OK, let's start rehearsing."

Peter raised his hand very quickly and the sleeve of his dress fell down his arm to rest in a small pile on his shoulder.

"Yes, Peter?"

"When are we putting this on?"

James smirked knowingly. "I have to make arrangements with Dumbledore, but I'm going to try to get us a spot for the final feast."

Remus groaned.

"Cheer up, Rowena!" said Sirius spectacularly, slapping Remus's shoulder. He waved his hand across the horizon and said, dramatically, "All's well that ends well."

Remus turned his head ever so slightly to look at his friend. "You've gone made, haven't you? I mean, you've _actually_ gone insane.

Sirius leaned down to whisper in Remus's ear. "Those who are insane are merely misunderstood by the rest of the world."

Remus looked to James and said, "He's lost it, James. He's officiallylost it."

James waved a hand carelessly, dismissing the observation. "He lost it a while ago, he has. Don't worry about him."

Remus sighed and looked at his watch and jumped. "Oh no!"

"What is it?"

"I'm late!"

"For what? It's Sunday."

"Uh, I mean, I- uh, I have to go."

"Where do you have to go?" James shouted, but Remus was already out the door.

There was a small pause before Sirius and James started laughing hysterically.

"What?" asked Peter, confused, looking from one to the other. "What is it? What's so funny?"

Sirius was unable to respond, rolling on the floor and convulsing in manic fits of laughter, but James pointed at the doorway where Remus had run off, clutching his stomach. "He's- he left- wearing—"

James was spared the chore of finishing his sentence when Remus's hand appeared in the doorway and threw the dress back in the dormitory before disappearing again.

When the laughter had subsided, the three boys continued rehearsing under the light the full moon cast into their room, filling in for Remus, only slightly curious about his strange departure.

They had no idea that it was the first time the small town of Hogsmeade was haunted with the chilling screams of aboy in agony. They had no idea it was the first shriek issued from the house soon to be christened as the Shrieking Shack.

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Hope you liked it. Sorry, but no time to respond to reviews right now. Hopefully, though, this chapter will get more, and ... then I will.


	9. potions

James, Sirius and Peter did not notice the absence of Remus during the evening until the lack of his presence was dully noted at breakfast.

"So, where did Remus run off to, last night?" asked James, helping himself to a second serving of eggs.

"Dunno. I guess we haven't seen him since he ran off," said Sirius.

"What do you think happened?" asked Peter, looking scared.

"Maybe he's sick."

"Nah," said James. "He said he was late for something."

"You think he'll come back?" asked Sirius after a pause.

"Of course!" said James, sounding more positive than he felt. The truth was, he had absolutely no idea what had happened to Remus, and he was worried for his friend. Looking back down at his food, he realised he was no longer hungry. "I'll see you guys later," he said, leaving the table, slinging his bag over his back and heading towards Potions.

"Bye."

James didn't know where he was going, nor did he know why he left Sirius and Peter at breakfast. His mind was on other things, and the thought of food was not pleasing his stomach. He wandered aimlessly down Hogwarts, pausing in front of random doors, wondering whether or not he should go through them, wondering what was on the other side, wondering.

This place was strange.

He didn't feel like a little child who needed his mother to feed him, who needed his father to help him tie his tie.

Hogwarts made him feel grown up.

He didn't like it.

So lost in thought, James Potter didn't notice it when he ran into a group of girls, knocking over one in particular for which he would later thank Merlin.

"Oh!" He rushed to his feet and helped the fallen over girl get back up. "I'm so sorry." Looking into her brilliant green eyes, James suddenly realised who she was.

The red-headed Gryffindor beauty.

"No, it was me, I should have looked where I was going."

There was an awkward silent pause where the world halted, waiting for the two Gryffindors to exhale. The girl's friends smiled knowingly and patted her on the back before leaving.

"I'm James," he said, offering her his hand. "James Potter."

"Lily Evans," she said, smiling and shaking it.

He didn't look away from her captivating eyes. His mind flooded with things he wanted to tell her.

That's a wonderful name.

Your hair looks nice.

You have beautiful eyes.

But somehow, his mouth could not form the words and his tongue just hung limply in his jaw, completely useless.

"Well, it was nice meeting you, James," she said, before walking away in the direction of the Great Hall, following her friends.

"Uh … yeah, bye," he called after she had already left.

James mentally beat himself.

"Nice James. My goodness, how hard is it to say something to a _girl_?"

Harder than you'd think! his mind replied. _Anything you said, anyway, would have just sounded scripted._

his mind replied. 

"Just shut it," he said to himself, ignoring the strange looks passing students were throwing him.

* * *

Potions was going rather uneventfully. Remus had entered the class with a note about half way through the lesson and Professor Rembrandt, the Potions Mistress, gave him a pitying look before sending him off to the empty seat next to Peter. He refused to answer any of James, Sirius or Peter's questions about where he had gone. Instead, he turned to his cauldron and started working quickly and quietly. James couldn't help but notice how pale Remus had been the past few days. 

Rembrandt was fair, the Hufflepuff Head, and somewhat plump. Some rumours suggested she was a descendant of the painter, but they were just rumours, and she was so artistically challenged, James doubted it was true.

The class was concocting the boil cure potion and not concentrating too hard. All except for Peter. James and Sirius made their potions carelessly and perfectly, playing around and poking each other with porcupine quills, while Peter's cauldron sprouted big clouds of acid green smoke.

Rembrandt rushed over to help him, showing him that he had to add the porcupine quills after taking the cauldron off of the fire. She managed to clear up his potion before it exploded and he began anew, James and Sirius laughing madly beside him as he blushed profusely from embarrassment.

"Hey, Peter!" said Sirius.

"What?" he said miserably.

"Say 'silk' three times fast," said Sirius.

"Why?" asked Peter, looking somewhat scared.

"I want you to."

"Silk, silk, silk."

"What do cows drink?"

"Uh, milk, right?"

"No, water."

"Uh, yeah. I was testing you. You passed." He laughed nervously.

"Say silk three times fast again."

"Silk, silk, silk."

"What do cows drink?"

"You already asked me this."

"I'm asking you again."

"Water."

"Good, now say silk three times fast."

"Is this going anywhere, Sirius?"

"Just do it, Petey."

"Silk, silk, silk."

"What do calves drink?"

"Water!"

"Nope."

Peter paused, frowning. "What?"

"Calves are baby cows, Peter. They drink milk."

From his cauldron, Remus could be heard sighing as he rolled his eyes and James and Sirius began laughing madly at Peter's lost and confused expression, as his potion emitted another acid green cloud, this time spraying him with angry red boils

"Oh no!" he said in exasperation.

Rembrandt rushed over and began fussing madly, clearing his potion and pushing him towards the door, telling him to go to the Hospital Wing. When she brushed past the other three, James could have sworn he heard her mutter, "Stupid first years, not next year, I tell you…"

* * *

Homework was slowly devouring the four boys' lives. They hardly created any time for rehearsing their play and also get their work done. It was becoming steadily obvious that Peter was the most academically challenged of them all. Remus was often helping him with his homework long before he, Sirius and James had finished. The class at which Peter excelled compared to the others was Herbology, but all of them made top four in the class together anyway, so he was not ahead by much. 

The play, however, was coming along nicely. Remus was being less stick-in-the-mud about wearing a dress as the time progressed. James had to admit as he watched a scene between Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, things were coming into place.

There was a stall in the speaking and Remus and Peter looked helplessly off stage to where James was standing with his arms crossed, watching them happily.

"Uh, I _said_, 'I WONDER WHERE GODRIC COULD BE?'" said Remus, enthusiastically craning his neck in James' direction.

James jumped and walked into the stage they had created in their dormitory, and placed his prideful cap on as he strode towards Rowena.

"You weren't talking of me, dear, were you?" he said, his voice pushed to the lowest it could go. Sirius stifled a laugh from his corner of the room, waiting for his cue, and James couldn't help but notice how wonderful these next seven years would be.

* * *

I'm putting the A/N at the end of the chapter so that you didn't have to wait to read this boring thing for the actual story. Anyway, I need to apologize. First, my computer was all of a sudden attacked by a swarming heard of viruses and it really virtually destroyed this document on my computer, so I've been restoring it. Then I had an uncontrollable case of writer's block, and just as it was about to break, finals week began, but it finished today with French and make ups ... so yay. I know that this chapter should be long since it took so long, and I'm sorry it's not. I'm trying to get through first year fairly quickly while maintaining an interesting first year since, well - they're the marauders, after all.

So, on to thank my reviewers.

**Sparkling Cherries:** I'm not sure I quite understand how I spliced this with the original. But it must mean something that has to do with comparison to JKR, and for that, I worship you!!! Thank you so much, your review made me really happy.

**Stella Blu: **Sorry bout the delay. I'm glad you got a kick out of my Remus-and-Peter-in-a-dress ordeal.

**PentagonMerlin: **Gosh ... thanx. I don't have a beta, and I needed to update. But thank you for the "utterly brilliant" comment.

**WritingsOfATeenageDramaQueen: **Thanx. I wasn't too proud of that part, but you've restored my confidence. Yay!

**Pixy-Misa-Misao-Amano: **I thought it would be a cute touch to have the metro of the group dress as a girl. It's not like he wanted to, but Sirius and James could easily have beaten Remus in a fight, so naturally, he's gonna spare his good looks and just accept his fate.

If you can, recommend this story. Lol. Sorry, I love reviews. Any constructive criticism is accepted with open arms and a sour, gracious face.

BTW: I know James is too young to be thinking about Lily like that, and I tried to create a young love type thing, I'm just trying to get the ball rolling for later years.


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